


Well, That's Your Name

by pointy_eared_hobgoblins



Series: The People You Least Expect [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Bronze Trio, Cousins, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Family Bonding, Friendship, Harry Potter Next Generation, Rivalry, Romance, nerd babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 05:32:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4775519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pointy_eared_hobgoblins/pseuds/pointy_eared_hobgoblins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Their fathers’ worst fears were that they would somehow end up in the same train car and become the best of friends…or worse, fall madly in love. Of course that’s not quite what happened. At least for Rose, anyway." </p><p>Small snapshots in the lives of Rose Granger-Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy as they try to figure out how they actually feel about each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well, That's Your Name

          Their fathers’ worst fears were that they would somehow end up in the same train car and become the best of friends…or worse, fall madly in love. Of course that’s not quite what happened. At least for Rose, anyway.

          While Rose and Albus searched for James and Freddie’s car, Albus bumped shoulders with a short, blond-haired boy in a sweatshirt and dark jeans.

          “Sorry, mate,” he said, offering the boy a kind smile. The boy, who he and Rose knew was Draco Malfoy’s son, smiled back, though his eyebrows were furrowed.

          “No problem, probably my fault anyway. I’m just trying to find friends.”

          “Yeah we’re trying to find my brother and our cousin,” Albus said. “I’m Al. And this Rosie.”

          “ _Rose_ ,” she corrected sternly, pushing some of her curls out of her face. Scorpius made eye contact with her and raised a white brow, lips curling.

          “Scorpius,” he said extending a hand. Albus took it enthusiastically and continued to smile. Scorpius looked at Albus’ nervous and gleeful expression and found himself smiling also. “Well, I should be going so we can sit down. I’ll probably see you before we get Sorted. Nice to meet you Al…” he made eye contact with Rose and beneath his kind smile, his lips curled in a way that she didn’t like at all. “Nice to meet you, _Rosie_.”

          Rose’s mouth clamped shut and she narrowed her eyes as Scorpius made his way down the end of the corridor. “See you, mate!” Albus called, waving. Scorpius turned around and offered a large smile and waved back. Looking at Rose in his typical overly friendly Albus way, he nudged her shoulder. “See? He’s pretty nice.”

          Rose only glared at the back of the Malfoy boy’s back as Albus jogged off in the other direction.

***         *        ***

          It was no surprise that Rose Weasley was sorted into Gryffindor. It was also no surprise that Scorpius Malfoy was sorted into Slytherin. Rose figured she’d leave any big shocks to Albus, who was more than happy to join his fellow Hufflepuffs. Of the many surprises Albus delivered to their family, the biggest was becoming fast friends with Scorpius Malfoy. And it seemed Scorpius was full of surprises himself: within their first month at Hogwarts, Scorpius Malfoy was the poster child for misunderstood Slytherins. He was the perfect student and a great friend to students in all Houses and from all backgrounds. Whether it was a pureblood witch he’d known from early childhood or a muggle wizard he met on the boats to Hogwarts, Scorpius was a fast and genuine friend to them.

          Of course, within the first _week_ of classes Albus and Scorpius found they had plenty in common while working on homework for a shared Charms class. Albus was the president of the quickly growing Scorpius Malfoy Fan Club that ravaged Hogwarts.

          All the while, Scorpius continued to grate on Rose’s nerves. She saw right through every smile, every wave, every look he threw her way. Beyond the fact that he was utterly fake, Scorpius seemed to utilize every moment as a way to torment Rose in any way he could. Since starting school with him, Rose kept track of every aspect of Scorpius Malfoy’s general demeanor in order to build enough evidence to prove Scorpius Malfoy was definitely the most insufferable person she ever had the misfortune of meeting.

           After all the surprises the first few months at Hogwarts brought their families, one thing remained as hoped: Rose Granger-Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy were the farthest things from friends.

* * *

**Year 1**

**January**

           “Morning, Weasley,” a voice behind her sing-songed while she ate breakfast.

           She didn’t bother to turn around and instead just rolled her eyes and took a vicious bite out of her toast. “Malfoy,” she replied. After a moment she took a deep breath and muttered into her History of Magic textbook, “Did you know my mother’s last name is Granger-Weasley?”

          She felt a body squeeze in next to her and saw a bony hand reach out and steal an orange from the center of the table. “I didn’t. Is that your last name, too?”

         “Don’t you have your own oranges at the Slytherin table?” Her only response was Malfoy popping a slice into his mouth. Grinding her teeth, she said, “Yes, technically. Though everyone here calls me just Weasley.”

         “Do you want to be different from the rest of your family?” he asked suddenly, sucking on an orange slice innocently.

         “What? No, of course not. I love my family. But people don’t call me by my proper last name…that’s frustrating.” There was a pause between them, in which Scorpius continued to suck down orange slices and Rose stared into her textbook. “Why do you think I want to be different from my family?” she eventually asked, turning to face him.

          He shrugged, continuing to peel the orange in his hands. “Albus does. He talks about it sometimes.”

          “Am I Albus?” she snapped, narrowing her eyes at him.

           Scorpius looked up at Rose’s face and suddenly his own broke out into a massive, knowing grin. Rose clenched her fists. “No,” he finally said. “You’re definitely not.”

           Rose opened her mouth, but James and Dominique sat down across from her, interrupting any discussion. “Mornin’ Rose,” James said, all smiles today, then side-eyed Scorpius.

          “Good morning, Scorpius,” said Dominique politely, buttering a piece toast and looking absolutely bored. More often than not, Dominique sat alone at the far end of the Ravenclaw table, but today it seemed she was attempting sociability. That, and she seemed to find Scorpius absolutely adorable, like most of the older students at Hogwarts.

          “Morning, Dominique, James,” Scorpius said, flashing a brilliantly cute smile and straightening. Dominique smirked, looking between him and Rose. Turning back at Rose he said, “I better be going, Miss Granger-Weasley.” Somehow, the way he said her full last name made her want to punch him right in his idiotic pale face—

          “Rose?” Dominique asked as Scorpius made his way to the Slytherin table. “Are you alright? You look a bit flushed.”

          “You know,” James mumbled through forkfuls of eggs, “That Scorpius kid is alright. I think I’m getting why Al likes him so much.”

           Rose promptly gathered her books and left the table.

***        *        ***

**June**

           Scorpius Malfoy was invited to Albus’ house for a weekend during summer break. _Of course he was_.

          “Draco Malfoy’s son in Harry Potter’s house,” her dad muttered over his newspaper. “Can’t wait to read the headlines on that one.”

          Her mother smacked his shoulder and frowned. “Ronald, don’t be ridiculous. They’re just children. There’s nothing about it that’s worth Rita Skeeter’s petty gossip. And why should it matter?” But Rose noticed her mother’s brow furrow as she said this, as though she didn’t quite believe her own reassurances.

           “Why should it matter?” her dad laughed. “ _Why should it matter_? Hermione, the kid’s a _Malfoy_. Or have you forgotten just how many war crimes his family was accused of? The ones his _father_ was accused of? I know you’re chummy with Greengrass at the Ministry but come on—”

           “I don’t think that’s at all fair, Ron,” her mother snapped, engaging in a typical mother-dad argument that more often than not ended with dad sleeping on the couch for a day or two.

            Rose cast a sidelong glance at Hugo, who was innocently sitting on a countertop and munching on a ham sandwich, enjoying the show. Sighing, she quietly exited the kitchen and went up to her room. She needed to compose a reprimanding letter for her cousin. 

* * *

**Year 2**

**October**

            “Boo!” a first-year Gryffindor jumped out at Rose and Freddie as they walked down the corridor toward the Great Hall. Neither jumped, but Fred chuckled a little.

            Rolling her eyes, Rose turned to the first-year, ready to offer congratulations on a good scare, when she saw his face. It was a hideous mix of blue and purple and his left eye was bulging dramatically while his ear oozed some disgusting-looking chunky yellow liquid. Rose shrieked for a solid half-a-minute, and when she was done, she paused for a moment before screaming again.

            Next to her, Fred burst into raucous laughter, having to fall against the walls behind them to avoid collapsing onto the floor. The boy smiled shyly and pulled out a small purple vial and drank it in one gulp. Within seconds his face returned to its normal tanned and plump appearance. From around the corner she heard snickering and saw Louis peeking out, with Albus hanging off of his thin shoulders, face pink from holding in the laughter. She couldn’t see Molly, but could hear her guffaws from behind one of the columns. James rolled out from beneath the two, cackling madly and holding his sides. Scorpius’ blue eyes peeked around the pair and Rose saw his shoulders shaking. When he moved around Louis, clapping his hands slowly, Rose noticed his lips curling into a nearly perfect and toothy smile, as he couldn’t restrain the laughter any longer. Grabbing a hold of Albus’ sleeve, he tried to keep himself upright as he let out the strangest sounds Rose ever heard come from his mouth; it was an odd mix of belly laughter combined with occasional high-pitched giggling that only made Albus laugh harder.

            “That’s not funny! He could’ve been hurt!” Rose shouted over their cackles, her face and ears quickly reddening.

            Albus and Scorpius took turns imitating her shriek of terror, each time getting higher and higher in pitch until they had to stop altogether. Rose clenched her fists and ran off toward the Gryffindor Common Room.

            “Aw, Rosie wait!” Fred’s voice carried through the corridor as she continued, staring angrily at the tiles below her.

            Four days later found Rose scarcely saying anything to her cousins and shooting dirty looks at the first-year boy who joined in on the prank whenever she saw him. On the fifth day, she found a letter and little blue box box on her bed.

_To: Miss Rose Granger-Weasley_

_Sorry for the scare…it was just too easy! Don’t be mad at Al for too long, he feels terrible. Be nice. He’s sensitive. Be mad at me longer, instead. Or Fred. It was his idea. To make you feel better is a present…Dominique told me they’re your favorite._

_Sincerely,_

_Malfoy_

            The little box contained three rows of cinnamon biscuits. Rose took a small bite, reading the letter over again. After eating a couple more, she closed the lid and slid the box onto the little drawer next to her bed. She read the letter once more and then ripped it in two before tossing it into the rubbish bin by the door.

***         *         ***

**January**

           Uncle Harry was badly injured during a recent raid. The _Daily Prophet_ was all over the story, as he was immediately taken to St. Mungo’s after the incident. For nearly two hours after he was admitted the Healers were convinced he wasn’t going to live. By morning, it seemed like he was going to pull through. It was shortly after Christmas break, and Albus and James were immediately rushed home once news of their father broke. Rose, Freddie, Molly, Dominique, and Louis had to wait and hear from letters from their parents about their uncle’s state. Headmistress McGonagall said that in the following week, the cousins would be given permission to leave Hogwarts during a weekend to see their family while Harry recovered.

          Fred, Louis, and Molly took to making a massive card that magically folded and unfolded with several students’ and professors’ notes of get well for their uncle. They all knew Uncle Harry hated the attention, which was why all of the notes were something either sarcastic or unimpressed with the whole affair. Fred, who received the suggestion from Professor Longbottom, thought it would be the perfect way to cheer Uncle Harry up. Dominique was sewing a hat, scarf, and mittens for their uncle to wear throughout the rest of winter—and to keep any of his scars or wounds covered as the winter cold worsened. Rose owled Hugo and they were putting their money together to get their uncle a large case of treacle tarts for when he was on house leave. They did what they could to keep busy, because whenever there was a slow moment, each of them found that they felt terribly sick to their stomachs.

           Two days after Albus and James left for home, Rose ended up standing by the edge of the Great Lake before dinner, half-heartedly practicing different charms and watching the unfrozen water lap against the icy shore.

           “Hey Rose.” The quiet voice startled her and she spun around. Scorpius Malfoy was standing behind her, hands jammed into his pockets and head down. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

           “You didn’t,” she said quickly, putting her wand away.

           “Right. Of course.” Silence settled between both for a while and all that was heard was the occasional sound of water hitting rock beneath them.

            “I’m sorry about your uncle.”  
            “You called me Rose.”

They stared at each other. Then:

            “Well that’s your name.”  
            “He’s going to be okay.”

             For a while, there was just uncomfortable silence between them; Rose tapped her wand against her thigh and Scorpius nudged the muddy ground with his boot. Then, slowly, Scorpius pulled out a folded napkin from his pocket. He stepped forward and opened it up, revealing cinnamon biscuits sitting one on top of the other. Rose hesitantly took one, sniffling a little. For nearly an hour following they stood in silence, Rose nibbling on his peace offering and Scorpius watching her. Around them, the first snow of the year began to fall.

* * *

**Year 3**

**April**

           “I have a proposition.”

            First rule of the Weasley-Potter family: if Lily Potter offers you something, run fast and far away.

            “What eleven-year-old says ‘I have a proposition’?” James asked, wrinkling his nose. Roxanne and Hugo sat behind him in the grass, both whispering to each other and giggling.

Lily eyed her brother, squinting a little, and straightened up, adjusting her green and silver robes professionally. “Excuse me, I am speaking to Rosie.” Turning back to her cousin, who was trying not to smile as James huffed a response under his breath, Lily continued, “Now, would you like to hear what I have to offer?”

            “Absolutely not,” Rose said, eyebrows raised. “You can con some poor other Gryffindor sap. I know you too well.”

            Lily gasped as though insulted and brought a hand to her chest. “Do you think I’d try and play you, Rosie? I’m hurt!”

            “Seriously, this kid sounds like she’s in a bad mob movie—someone explain,” James said, waving his arms. Lily sighed and shook her head, spinning back to James.

            “You know, given that you have no place in this friendly discussion between my cousin and me, I think you should go now,” she said, placing her hands on her hips. James was caught between laughing at the adorableness of it all and also feeling terrified. It wasn’t enough that his sister was a scary little monster, but the Slytherin robes only made her even more abhorrent to him.

            “Looks like you’ve lost her,” Roxanne said, smiling.

            Lily spun around and saw that Rose and her books and satchel were gone. Turning on James she marched forward and stuck her finger into his chest. “You cost me today, James,” she sneered. While the tall and slightly built fourteen-year-old did his best to stare down his petite, eleven-year old sister, Hugo cackled and Roxanne made sure to snap a couple of pictures for the scrapbook.

            Rose jogged across the courtyard, her satchel loosely thrown over her shoulder, occasionally looking back at little Lily accosting James and snickering. She reached a series of columns with open space in between—perfect for sneaking away and getting some quiet reading time. Sliding into one, she rested her head against the cool rock and closed her eyes.

            “Absolutely not.”

            She jolted up, nearly avoiding hitting her head against the other end of the wall and turned to see Malfoy perched in the shadows of the wall, legs scrunched up and pushed against his chest and a book precariously balanced on his knees.

            “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

            He scoffed and closed the book. “Should ask you the same thing. I was here first. Or do you just crave my company that much?” Her ears turned red and she huffed and moved to slide out of the wall. “Alright, alright. You don’t have to leave,” he said. “We can share. Well…for a half-hour or so. I’m helping Patricia Spinnet with Potions homework then.”

            She raised an eyebrow. “Patricia Spinnet?”

            Scorpius raised a perfectly plucked pale eyebrow in mocking response. “Yes, Patricia. Our year…Hufflepuff Chaser? Older brothers are in Gryffindor? Really nice hair?”

            “I know who Patricia is, Malfoy,” Rose snapped, rolling her eyes. “I just didn’t know _you_ knew her.”

            He smirked.  “She and Albus and I sometimes practice together. You know, I can have friends outside of the pure-blood Slytherin crowd, despite what you may think.”

            “I never said—”

            “Besides,” he went on, “Patricia’s cute. And fun. Why wouldn’t I know her?”

            Rose pulled a face as though she smelled something terrible. “You can’t be serious…I’ll have to warn her.”

            He laughed then, the kind of laugh that sounded like Rose told a joke he’d heard before. “About what? That I’m going to help her with Potions and practice some Quidditch? You got me, Weasley; I’m up to no good.”

            “Alright I’m leaving. Goodbye, Malfoy. As always, this was lovely.”

            He shuffled a little so that he was sliding toward her. When she spun to look at him she noticed his grin was huge. “Aw, c’mon Weasley. Don’t tell me you’re jealous of Patricia Spinnet. If you really like, I’ll help you with Potions homework, too. I’m quite good at it.”

            “Believe me, I don’t need your help with Potions,” she said as she slid out into the sunlight.

            “Right, you’re first in class or something like that,” he said, opening his book up again. “Got no need for little old me. That’s all right. Hey, Weasley!” She spun around, squinting at him and cocking her head. Malfoy stifled a laugh behind his hand before calling out, “I won’t forget about you now that I have a study partner. Patricia’s got nice hair…but I think I like yours a little better.” He winked and then slunk back in between the columns.

            Rose felt her whole face heat up and she promptly spun on her heel and marched as far away from that side of the courtyard as possible.

***        *        ***

**May**

One warm spring evening, Albus asked Rose if she could come with him and Scorpius and a few other friends and watch an impromptu inter-house Quidditch match before the end of the season. When she arrived at the Pitch, she climbed into the seating and found Dominique and other seventh year Ravenclaws sitting in the bleachers.

            “What are you doing here?” she asked, sliding next to her cousin and opening a textbook.

            Dominique smiled slightly and nodded at the players on the ground. A tall, black-haired boy with a Ravenclaw hat was leaning against his broom. “D’Aro Mox and I are in choir together. I told him the girls and I would come around and show some support.” The four girls next to her were whispering and giggling, occasionally calling out to the boy on the field, who looked up and flashed a dazzling smile their way. Dominique held her hand out as a hovering brush coated her nails in purple polish. “As you can see,” she said quietly, “I’m riveted.”

            Rose laughed, noticing a few other small groups of students sitting around the Pitch. Scanning over, she even saw tiny Lily sitting with some other first-year Slytherins, watching the players mull about with a small bit of awe. Some of the small groups were in Quidditch gear themselves—probably playing a match after this one was finished; once the days grew longer, night-matches became incredibly popular at Hogwarts. She noticed James sitting with some other Gryffindor players, leaning over the railing and calling out to his friends. Below them, members of different House teams were clumped together and chatting. Albus and Patricia Spinnet were laughing about something while Primrose Smee hung from her knees on her broom, smiling. She noticed Scorpius whisper something to seventh-years Ivy Rowland and Athena Gorson, who smiled brightly at him and fellow-third year Oberon Quickly, a bulky boy with meaty fists and a square head. Molly had her arms around Lena Lewis and Nigel Wheatley, looking incredibly excited. The boy Dominique’s friends were enamored with stood with three older Ravenclaw boys who were talking with each other, eyes flickering up the hoard of seventh-year girls waving in their direction. When the teams were divided up, Albus, Scorpius, D’Aro, Ivy, Lena, Primrose, and one of the fair-haired Ravenclaw boys were on a team together and flew to the left side of the Pitch, smiling at each other.

            She noticed Patricia smack Scorpius on the back as they took their positions. Malfoy grinned at her and winked, and Rose could’ve sworn she saw Patricia giggle a little as she flew up next to Nigel Wheatley. For some odd reason, Rose felt her own ears heat up. Albus caught her eyes and gave her a thumbs-up. She waved back, smiling. Then, Scorpius’ head turned to her and he flashed a dazzling grin. She rolled her eyes and went back to reading her textbook.

            While Gryffindor Captain Roberto Hyland readied the balls in the center of the Pitch, players lazily flew around their teammates and along the bleachers, hi-fiving and chatting with friends. A whoosh of air caused Rose to look up from her book and see Scorpius floating in front of her with his armed crossed.

            “Watch the game, Weasley, huh?” he teased, flipping his broom upside down and looking up at her with big blue eyes. “Wouldn’t want you to miss anything!” She rolled her eyes and went back to reading. Suddenly, the book was snatched from her and hovering a few feet above her, held in Malfoy’s gloved hands.

            “Give it back, Malfoy,” she growled, face growing pink when Dominique’s friends turned to watch the little show happening between the two.

            He made little “tsk” sounds, shaking his head. He then turned to Dominique, who was trying to look as though she was still invested in her nails. Then, flying off, he tossed the book to Albus, who looked at him in confusion before laughing a little. He made eye contact with Rose, who was glaring as hard as she could. Then, Albus flew over his brother sitting across the Pitch and tossed the book in his lap. James looked at the book, then his brother, then across at Rose and burst out laughing, waving the book in the air.  

            “Albus!” she called indignantly. Her cousin just looked at her and shrugged innocently.

            Before Roberto called the players to the center, Scorpius floated by her again. “Now you won’t miss the fun, Weasley,” he said smugly, winking at her like he had to Patricia. Rose’s cheeks turned the same color as her hair and she quickly found another book in her bag to bury her face into.

            She didn’t notice Malfoy’s triumphant grin turn into a disappointed frown as she refused to look up from her book. 

***       *       ***

**July**

           Albus, Kai Beamish, Patricia Spinnet, and Primrose Smee were going camping together at the end of the month. Then Albus invited Scorpius Malfoy along. _Of course he did_.

          “Don’t you think it’s odd that he always comes along on trips with you or goes to your house, but you’ve never been invited to his?” Rose asked Albus one day as they walked the grounds of the Burrow.

         Albus frowned and turned to her. “Scorpius has invited me to Quidditch matches with him and to parities his mum throws all the time.”

        “But you never stay over at his place,” Rose said, kicking pebbles in her wake and tossing wild curls away from her face. They stopped by a pond and sat on boulders, looking out at the sparkling water. “Or you never go over when there’s not an event or something.”

         There was a pause and Albus was looking down at the ground thoughtfully. Rose thought he looked exactly like his dad when he did that. “It’s complicated,” he finally said, picking up a rock and holding in his hands before skipping it against the clear water of the pond. He looked up at Rose, flicking long black locks out of his eyes and cocking his head. “You know it’s complicated,” he said a little more firmly.

          “I just don’t know if it’s fair,” she said, kicking off her boots and sticking her toes in the shallow water. “Mum was talking about ‘healthy friendships’ to Hugo yesterday. About how you have give some and get some, you know?”

          “And you don’t think we have a healthy friendship?” he mumbled, standing up and picking through more rocks to throw.

          “I just think it’s odd is all,” she said quickly, knowing that a quiet Albus was usually an upset Albus. “And it can’t be easy. I mean…everyone loves Uncle Harry. But not everyone loves Draco Malfoy—”

          “Not everyone loves my dad,” Albus said harshly, tossing a rock into the water. Rose then thought of the scar on her uncle’s cheek and the many red marks along his hands and arms and the small limp he had whenever it grew cold. She thought of when he was laying in a hospital bed, pale and small, or when he’d have wrapping around his shoulder sometimes when they came home.

          “Sorry,” she said quietly.

          “You have to give people a chance,” Albus said, standing a little taller. “That’s what mum says.” He tossed another rock and watched it dance across the water, now pinkish from the setting sun. “Scorpius is my best friend, Rose. You’d see why if you just gave him a chance.”

* * *

**Year 4**

**September**

Much to her cousins’ glee, Rose decided to try out for the Quidditch team. Much to her father’s unending glee (she had not told him she was trying out for obvious reasons), she made the team as an alternate Keeper. So, of course, her father’s joy came in the form of the most jovial Howlers any student had ever received and letters with tips for good Keepers. Among the letters of congratulations was a clip of an interview with the Chudley Cannons’ Keeper, Lyle Smithley.  

            “Don’t know how helpful that’ll be,” Scorpius said from across the dinner table, smirking. Albus saw the article and tried not to laugh.

            “Smithley isn’t as bad as people say,” James offered from further down the table, which was met with a smack in the head from Darcy Wood.

            “I hope you’re not as thick as you seem,” he muttered over his breakfast. “Don’t worry, Rose, with the number of times a _certain team_ —” he glanced at Scorpius—“pulls dirty plays, you’ll be on the field in no time. And believe me, you won’t need any advice from that tosser Smithley when you do.”

            “First off,” Scorpius shot back, “I do nothing wrong ever.” Darcy scoffed. “Secondly, just because we’re a bit aggressive—”

            “ _A bit aggressive_? Slytherin last year was barking mad! I nearly lost my head on a monthly basis!”

            Albus was nodding in agreement when Scorpius elbowed him. “Why are you nodding? Don’t agree with him.” Albus shrugged noncommittally, though he was smiling. “I thought we were friends, I can’t believe this.” Rose snorted a little into her drink. Scorpius turned his gaze to her and his lips curled a bit. “I’m glad you made Daddy so proud, Rosie,” he sing-songed.

            Rose raised an eyebrow. “It’s just a shame I didn’t make the team last year like some people. My ‘daddy’ would’ve sent boxes of candy before every game and worn handmade jerseys with my name of them to our matches.”

            Albus choked on his drink and bust out laughing. “I love those things, oh Merlin,” he said between coughs.

            Scorpius did his best not to look embarrassed and rolled his eyes. “Just wait, Weasley,” he said lazily. “We’ll see who’s laughing when you can’t hold your own against me on the pitch.”

            “Oooohh, so scary. Whatever will I do!” Rose chirped, waggling her fingers toward him and laughing. She didn’t notice that, despite his attempts to look unamused, Scorpius was also smiling.

***      *      ***

**February**

            He was eleven minutes late. Not that Rose was keeping track. But he was never late. It was absolutely frustrating; if every other student was expected to show up on time, then he was too. Of course he’d be late the day a wildly important Transfiguration assignment was due.

            Every other minute or so, her eyes would trail to the empty seat before snapping back up to Professor Zarusta’s lecture. Around minute seven she stopped glancing at the desk after Sabrina Rockharrow, who sat next to Scorpius, made prolonged eye contact with Rose before slowly raising a thin eyebrow and waving her fingers in a confused hello. Giving a half-hearted wave back, Rose slunk down in her chair and busied herself with taking lackluster notes, eyes darting at the clock ticking a little too loudly in the front of the classroom.

            When eleven minutes rolled around, the heavy wooden door of Professor Zarusta’s room clanged open and nearly every head turned to see a disheveled and rather pathetic looking Scorpius Malfoy standing in its entrance. Rose noticed his satchel was overflowing with papers and books, and his blond hair—usually neatly gelled back—was wild and falling into his eyes, which looked around the room frantically.

           “Mr. Malfoy,” Professor Zarusta scolded, crossing her arms. “Care to explain barging in over ten minutes late to my class?”

           There was a pause where Scorpius looked like he was ready to faint before he stood up straighter and walked toward his desk. “I…I’m dreadfully sorry, Professor. There was a problem with one of my roommates and I was inundated all morning worried about him and before I knew it, it was nearly noon and I forgot to eat last night and this morning so I ran to get some toast because I’m feeling rather ill, but I was already late and—”

          “That’s enough, Mr. Malfoy,” Zarusta interrupted, taking a deep breath. “I take it you have your essay for me?”

           Again, another pause, this one much shorter, filled the space between them before Scorpius muttered under his breath and began frantically searching through his bag. “I did have it in here, but I needed papers for Harris to give to Madame Pomfrey this morning and…where is it…”

           “Mr. Malfoy, compose yourself and hand it in at the end of class. Twenty points from Slytherin. You’d do well to not interrupt my class like this again.”

           Scorpius had the decency to look slightly embarrassed, but that faded quickly as his face split into an utterly charming—and fake, Rose noted—smile. “Of course. Apologies, Professor.”

           Several of the girls glanced at Malfoy’s desk in starry-eyed sympathy, offering kind smiles his way, which he was more than happy to return. After nearly half of class had passed, Rose—who was definitely not actively looking in his direction—noticed that behind the large textbook in Scorpius’ lap was an enchanted quill writing on a piece of parchment. She also noticed Scorpius’ lips silently moving as the quill wrote. When he stopped, it stopped. When Zarusta turned to ask a few questions, the writing ceased and Scorpius craned his neck, glancing in Rose’s direction. Seeing where she was looking he cocked an eyebrow and offered the most self-satisfied smile Rose had ever seen before winking and going back to mouthing the words of his essay. The most important essay of the semester. Very casually. Of course.

            At the end of class, Rose saw Scorpius gather his papers and hand them to Zarusta, who gave him a stern look and seemed to be reprimanding him. Rolling her eyes Rose left the classroom and waited down the corridor, her hands clenched in frustration. After a few minutes she saw Scorpius and Oberon Quickly practically swaggering down the corridor, laughing about something apparently hilarious. Rose waited until he was a few feet in front of her spot against the wall before pushing into his path.

           “Malfoy,” she said firmly. “I need to speak with you, please.”

            Oberon chuckled before shaking his head and patting Scorpius on the back. “See you at practice tonight, Scorp. Weasley,” he said, sucking in a deep breath, “always a pleasure.” He nodded awkwardly at Rose before strolling toward the courtyard.

            Scorpius, not missing a beat, leaned against the stone wall next to them and crossed his arms, smiling toothily. “What can I do for you today, Miss Weasley?”

           “ _Granger-Weasley_ ,” she corrected immediately. Scorpius’ grin only grew and he nodded agreeably. Rose sighed and ran a hand through her unruly hair. “Look, I saw what you were doing in class today. And, to be honest, I think it’s absolutely detestable. I’m considering talking with Professor Zarusta, actually.”

           His grin didn’t even falter before he shrugged and waved a hand dismissively. “If you go now, you can probably catch her.” There was a long pause in which Scorpius inspected his perfectly manicured hands and Rose stared at him with narrowed eyes. “No? You’re not going? Figured I’d put up a fight and you’d have a reason to feel even more self-righteous than you do now?” Rose opened her mouth, but he continued, “Look, _Granger-Weasley_ , I’m not going to explain myself to you—if you’re suspicious, talk to Edgar Harris, he can tell you all about the boiling pustules on his back. And, yes, I could’ve finished this before last night, but I have a life; you know, one of those things that take up time. So, if you’re—”

            “Oh, come off it, Malfoy,” she nearly shouted. “That whole rambling explanation of why you’re so perfect and above it all may work on everyone else, but it doesn’t work on me.” His grin returned and he raised his eyebrows in amusement. Rose felt her neck and cheeks flush before she took a step closer and looked up into his pale blue eyes. “You and Edgar Harris were experimenting with some _stolen_ potions ingredients—Albus told me, he’s a bad liar—and it must’ve backfired. As for your life, I see you lazing about day after day…doesn’t seem too busy to me.”

           He laughed, one that started out as a quiet chuckle and quickly grew into louder, more jovial sounds, as though she told a particularly good joke. “Look, I don’t know why you’re so confrontational today? I already told you, if you leave now you can reveal my dastardly procrastination-based plots to Zarusta.”

            “Everyone has to turn their work in on time,” she snapped. “It’s not fair that you can waltz in late and finish the essay in class, only to get a winning grade on it in a couple of weeks.”

            “I’m flattered you care so much about my moral compass, Weasley,” he responded, still maintaining his casual and charming composure. “I’m third in our class—did you honestly think I got that ranking because I slack off and cheat my way through school? I’m not Albus’ dim-witted brother, please give me more credit than that.”

            “How dare you—”

             He cut her off with a laugh. “We both know this has nothing to do with me finishing the paper in class. It has _everything_ to do with the fact you’re second in the class and I’m third and you can’t accept the fact that I do just as well as you without spending hours holed away in the library.”

            “You _don’t_ do as well as me, clearly,” she snapped. Scorpius’ grin turned menacing.

             “Of course. I’m not, after all, the one holding the coveted _second-place ranking_ ,” he sneered. Leaning in closely he whispered into her wild hair, “If you just wanted an excuse to see me and yell at me, Weasley, you should’ve just asked. I like the little repertoire we having going on here.” Rose practically jumped away from him, hand reaching into her robes and clutching her wand.

             “If you think I enjoy this Malfoy—”

             “Of course you don’t, Rose,” he said gently, almost affectionately, running his hand through silky blond hair. “I have to go, responsibilities and such. If you miss me terribly, let Albus know…I’ll be more than happy to be the center of your endless frustrations.”

             Winking, he practically swaggered out into the nearby courtyard and Rose saw his shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

* * *

**March**

             Molly blew up part of the Potions lab. Which wasn’t wholly surprising; Molly Weasley had a bizarre affinity for pyrotechnics. However, that meant that Potions classes were suspended indefinitely that week until the professors could figure out how to rearrange classes. It also meant Molly was spending her early spring weeks in detention indefinitely. Meanwhile, Rose and Judith Bott spent their time outside of class studying as much as they could so they wouldn’t be behind when classes resumed. If there was someone who understood Rose’s zeal to be prepared and proficient, it was Judith. Judith was a tall, lanky girl with cropped blonde hair, big square glasses, and a permanent look of boredom on her face. She and Rose often studied and spent time together; there was something about Judith’s dry sarcasm and Rose’s snappy comments that sparked an immediate friendship between the two.

              During the Potions-free week, they spent empty class time going over various assignments and upcoming sections in the textbook, familiarizing themselves with ingredients and methods as much as they could. When they were done they’d head off to dinner and continue to do work together. Most of the time they sat in silence, only speaking to ask each other questions or comment on how difficult something looked. Sometimes they’d gripe about not having class and feeling like they would be utterly confused when things began again.

              On the fourth day, Rose and Judith were sitting on a bench outside, leaning back-to-back and reading the next chapter in their Potions book. It was a long couple of weeks for the two; both were taking an extra class on top of their electives in order to prepare for next year’s O.W.L’s. The past few weeks were jammed with exams and assignments that kept them up in until early hours of the morning and had them working through most meals. Judith and Rose could feel it wearing down on them, making their most recent impromptu Potions session a silent and exhausted one.

              “Hi Judith!” a perky voice behind them called. Rose turned and saw Mita Dahwan walking toward them. Mita was rather short and had long straight black hair she always wore in a messy bun, and had a smile as bright and cheerful as her personality.

              “Hi Mita,” Judith closed her book and nudged Rose, who faced forward and let Judith sit up straight.

             “Hi, Rose,” Mita said, smiling kindly. Rose smiled back and mumbled a hello, going back to her book. “Ready to go?” she asked Judith.

             “Was that today?” Judith asked, looking confused. “Sorry, I guess I have my days all mixed up. Rose, sorry for forgetting, I told Mita last week that I’d help her study for an Ancient Runes exam.”

             “That’s alright—good luck studying, Mita!” Rose said, smiling. “I’ll just finish up early and go to the library.”

              “See you, Rose!” they said, walking off together.

               Rose meant to leave for the library shortly after Judith and Mita left, but instead found herself laying flat on the bench, holding her book against her chest and reading the text lazily. The late afternoon sun warmed her skin and she easily discarded her cardigan and rolled up her sleeves. Finally having a moment to breathe in the chaos of her spring semester, between O.W.L preparations and late-night Quidditch practices, left Rose embracing the silent, sunny evening happily. She didn’t feel the book slide out of her hands and land on her chest or her eyes close only a few minutes after lying down.

               “Weasley…Weasley…Rose!” a quiet voice and gentle shaking of her shoulder roused Rose from her unexpected nap. Blinking, she groaned a little and let her eyes focus. Right in front of her were two blue eyes staring inches from her own face. Then, the face morphed into a sly smile, lips curling and dimples showing. “Thought you were dead,” Scorpius Malfoy said.

                Rose allowed herself a second to stare at the face, observing the little features she never noticed—the pale freckles that dotted his chin, the little white scar below his eyebrow, the way his nose scrunched when he smiled—before shooting upright and attempting to inch away from him. In the process, she nearly slid off of the bench, her arms flailing a little. A strong hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her upright and she immediately yanked her arm away.

               “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, gathering up her parchment and books and shoving them into her satchel.

                Scorpius watched her with a knowing smirk on his face. “It’s nearly dinnertime. You were sleeping on a stone bench. I figured I’d make sure you took care of yourself and got food, then a proper night’s sleep.”

                “I don’t need you babysitting me, Malfoy,” she snapped, standing up and wobbling a little from the post-nap vertigo. He slowly rose to a standing position, arms behind his back. “Where is it?” Rose muttered, looking around the bench and in her satchel for her Potions textbook.

“This?” he asked innocently, brining his arms from behind his back and holding the book out to her. She narrowed her eyes and took it from him, jamming it in her bag. “Better be careful, wouldn’t want to lose things now.”

                 “Oh shut up, Malfoy.”

                 “Want to go get dinner with me?” he asked suddenly. When she looked up at his face it was perfectly neutral, as if he was asking the time.

                 “W-what?”

                  He raised an eyebrow. “Dinner. Would you like to walk to the Great Hall with me and get dinner?”

                  She narrowed her eyes and wrung her hands around her satchel. What was he playing at? Scorpius merely watched her innocently. A solid few beats passed between the two before Rose muttered, “I’m not hungry,” and turned around and marched toward the corridors leading to Gryffindor Tower.

                 “Granger-Weasley,” he called, sounding incredibly earnest. She stopped, turning her head slowly. He jogged toward her and delicately placed a hand right above her cheek, hovering inches from touching her skin. She froze, face pink and ears scarlet. He looked into her eyes for a moment before looking at her mouth. Slowly leaning in and whispering he said, “You’ve got some drool on her left cheek.”

                 Rose was incredibly satisfied with the sound her satchel made when it came in contact with Malfoy’s head.

* * *

**Year 5**

**October**

            “I can’t believe you two,” Rose muttered as she waded through sticky runoff and thick mud. In front of her, Scorpius chuckled and Albus shrugged.

            “You weren’t invited, Weasley,” Scorpius said brightly.

            “That’s true, Rosie,” Albus said, pushing ahead, the dim glow of his wand the only source of light in the tunnel. “You did insist on coming.”

            “Because you two were going to do something insanely stupid!” she snapped, slipping a little in the mud and…whatever else was stuck to the stone walls and floors.

            “Thanks, Grandma,” Scorpius drawled, “I was most definitely going to do something idiotic before you so bravely volunteered to protect me.”

            “Shut up, Malfoy.” Ahead of her, Albus was laughing.

            Sometime around March of last year, Scorpius and Albus decided to go exploring the difficult to access parts of the castle. After a few weeks of careful searching and a few well-placed enchantments, the two stumbled upon the underground tunnels beneath the Dungeons and, most likely, the lake. They got so far before having to stop, realizing the path was blocked by debris and lost pieces of the castle that were never completed. For the remainder of the semester and very beginning of their fifth year, the two removed as much debris as they could before seeing a faint light at the end of the tunnels. That evening, they were going to see where the tunnels let out. Rose thought they were most likely going to die. Albus assured here there was probably only a twenty-two percent of bodily harm. Still, she made sure they weren’t going alone.

            “So you have no idea what’s at the end of this tunnel?” she asked, trying to keep her balance.

            “Al thinks it’s the other side of the lake. Nothing too special. But, we can sneak around now without worrying about Boggs or anyone catching us.”

            “This seems like it could collapse at any minute,” Rose muttered, shivering. “I don’t think it’s safe to be down here so often.”

            “Aw, is little Rosie Granger-Weasley scared of some ancient rocks?” Scorpius asked in a high pitched voice, looking over his shoulder with a smirk.

            “Shut _up_ , Malfoy.”

            “We’ve been reinforcing the walls with magic,” Albus said. “They should be fine. Besides, if we get worried we’ll figure out an escape route. Right, Scorp?”

            “Aye, aye, Captain.” Scorpius slowed a bit, allowing Rose to catch up to him. “I am still a little worried, though,” he mused after a moment. “What if we are crushed to death? Or there’s a leak and we all drown? Or the _squid gets us_?” he gasped.

            “Funny,” Rose deadpanned. “If you think that’ll scare me off, you better try hard—”

             Suddenly, her foot caught a particularly slick piece of cracked rock and she slid forward, reaching out to brace herself against the wall only to find her hand slipped inside of some moldy, greenish goo growing up its side. Rose pitched forward, crying out a little, and braced her other arm to collide with the dank floor. Before she felt any impact, two warm hands wrapped around her arms and she found herself pressed into a white shirt. Scorpius landed on his back with a worryingly loud smacking sound and let out a choking sound as he collided with stone. Rose slipped on top of him, her muddy and slimy hands braced against his chest. She blinked, only inches away from Scorpius’ face as he lay in whatever festered in the tunnels.

            Wide blue eyes stared into hers for a moment. “We’ve got to stop meeting this way, Weasley,” he whispered gleefully, trying not to laugh.

           “Are you alright?” Rose nearly shouted, trying not to push too hard on his chest and gaping at the two brownish-green handprints that tattooed his shirt.

           Scorpius blinked rapidly for a second before cocking his head. “I’m fine?” he said confusedly.

            Rose rolled off of him, trying to ignore the goo seeping into the knees of her jeans as she kneeled on the ground. “Come here,” she muttered, helping him sit up. “You hit the ground really hard, Scorpius,” she said quietly, gently placing her hands on his shoulders, ignoring the wet stains forming on his shirt. “Are you injured? Does your back hurt? Did you hit your head? Can you move alright?”

           Scorpius grinned. “Aw, does Rosie Granger-Weasley actually care about me?”

          “ _Shut up, Malfoy_ ,” she snapped, her hazel eyes unblinking and her mouth in a firm line. “Are you hurt?” she asked again.

          There was a long pause. Scorpius looked as though he’d seen the Giant Squid personally. Rose was glaring at him, her face flushed and eyes sparkling in worry. He stuttered for a moment before managing, “M’fine, Rose,” he said thickly.

          “Let me check your head.” Her soft mud-coated fingers brushed against his temple and then along the back of his head, gently prodding and brushing against his scalp. Scorpius immediately stiffened. “Nothing hurts there?” she murmured. He shook his head. She nodded, expression hard. “Okay, let’s get you standing. Up you go, slowly.” She grabbed his hands and tried to steady him despite the muddy goop on their hands and arms. Scorpius stood up slowly, letting her guide him, before standing straight, looking down at her. “Do you feel dizzy?”

           “I…uh…n-no,” Scorpius mumbled. Rose’s cheeks were pinkish and her freckles stood out in the dim light from her wand. He saw smears of brown and green against her neck and nose and forehead and noticed her curly hair was a frizzy mess on top of her head. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.

           “Come on,” she said softly, taking his arm. “I’ll brace you until you don’t feel dizzy, alright?” She smirked up at him, not really noticing that he’d been staring. “See? I told you it’s a good thing I’m here. So much for your twenty-five percent, Al.”

           “Twenty-two. And you were kind of the reason he fell,” Albus said, standing with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised.

           “Yeah, well, he didn’t have to jump in front of me,” Rose retorted, still holding on to Scorpius’ elbow. “Maybe having Grandma around isn’t so bad, huh boys?” she asked, smiling smugly.

           Scorpius was silent, his face a few shades darker than pink. “Oh, I’d say,” Albus said, laughing.

***        *        ***

**December**

        The Gryffindors decided to throw a Christmas party. At first, it started off as expected while the seventh-years planned the event. Eventually, it grew into something closer to a post-Quidditch rager than a classy Christmas get-together. The Hufflepuffs were the first to get involved. They decided it was a good idea to create various games and party-favors to hand out. Then the Ravenclaws thought they’d spice things up by providing all of the music and food. Then the Slytherins offered to bring all of the alcohol. So, the week before holiday break, fifth-seventh years from all Houses were jammed into the designated “party room” hidden behind four secret passageways in the Dungeons.

         Rose arrived later into the night, since a majority of her evening was spent debating even going in the first place. By the time she entered the large chamber, she was lost in a sea of students. Everyone she recognized was already into the party groove, it seemed. James and Fred were hanging out together while Fred attempted to hit on Ruby Jordan and James was chugging some fizzing drink. Molly was with Lena Lewis and Saleha Hundral, who were pretending not to notice that she was attaching something definitely unsafe to the underside of one of the tables. Louis was, as usual, awkwardly flirting with Jazz Dailey while he nervously stirred a popping and fizzing pink drink in his hands. Albus was chatting with Primrose Smee in one of the corners, trying to inspect just what monstrous concoction Scorpius handed him earlier in the evening.  

         “Hey, Rose!” Mita Dahwan appeared behind her, smiling brightly and holding two drinks in her hands. “I’m glad you could make it…I couldn’t find any Gryffindors our year earlier!” Rose smiled, wringing her hands nervously. This was her first time at one of the famous “upperclassmen parties” often whispered about among first-through-fourth-years with a sense of great fear and awe. “I got you a drink,” Mita said, interrupting her thoughts. “It’s safe, don’t worry. I asked Oberon and he said this one’s the most mild drink they brought.”

        Rose took the blue slushy drink in her hands and tried to smile again. “Thanks, Mita. I appreciate it.” She shifted slightly, feeling totally uncomfortable. She ran a hand down the side of her leg, trying to smooth out any wrinkles on her yellow dress, nervously holding the fabric in her hand.

        “I like your dress,” Mita said, still smiling. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before.” Rose just smiled again and shrugged. Slowly, she took a sip of the icy drink, trying not to cough after. “Yeah, all of the drinks are spiked with whatever crazy stuff the Slytherins brought,” Mita said, laughing a little. “I’ve been told to stay away from the orange and purple ones.” Rose raised an eyebrow, pretty sure the sparkling drink in James’ hands was a vibrant purple. 

        The room was buzzing around them and she caught glimpses of students dancing or pressed into each other against walls or in corners. Deep red and green lights floated above them, some in lanterns, some just twinkling lights strung up on the stone walls. Mistletoe seemed to be growing randomly above pairs of students, who gladly took the opportunity to embrace the old tradition. A few feet away, Ruby Jordan rolled her eyes and left Fred standing alone beneath the flower before James nudged him out of the way and pulled Darcy Wood into his arms. Rose pulled a face at seeing the two boys grow more than enthusiastic and turned back to the sea of students dancing. Albus was awkwardly dancing with Primrose, who was twirling him and dipping him as the two spun in between other students. Some students were sitting on massive rugs and pillows together, playing various games in small circles, sometimes passing a huge cup filled with glowing liquid from person-to-person, or tossing cards into the center, cheering.

          Mita was right, though—there weren’t many fifth-year Gryffindors that Rose could find. Then again, there were so many students crammed into the space that she was surprised that she recognized anyone. It was also very late; the sky outside of the windows was black, lit only by a few silver stars. Rose was sure the party would die down soon enough.

         “Weasley!” Oberon Quickly’s large hand landed on her bare shoulder and she flinched a little. Looking up, Oberon’s face was pink and his gaze lazy. “Didn’t think you were going to show up.”

         “Hi Oberon,” Mita called cheerfully over the din of music and chatter.

         “Oberon,” Rose muttered, shrugging out of his grasp. “Having fun?”

          He smiled drunkenly and raised his cup, “Bet your arse I am! My cousin helped get the drinks so we had a small party of our own before coming over to set up. Been quite the evening I’d say!” He slung an arm over her shoulder and jostled her a little, causing some of the slush to spill out onto the floor.

          “I’d say,” Rose echoed, casting a look at Mita, who just giggled and took Oberon’s arm in hers.

          “Want to dance?” she asked sweetly. He nodded enthusiastically and put his cup down on a nearby table. Rose mouthed a _thank you_ to Mita who saluted her and led Oberon into the waving mass of people next to them.

          After a few moments, Rose saw Nigel Wheatley standing from one of the circles and heading toward a nearby table to refill his cup. They made eye contact and Rose waved, smiling a little. He smiled back and tucked his long brown hair behind his ears. Nigel and Rose shared classes together since their first year and often went to Hogsmeade together on weekends, both gladly spending most of their time in Honeydukes. For a second, Rose considered asking him to dance, figuring he was the only other familiar face—aside from her family—she would see for the rest of the night. Then:

          “Look who has graced us with her presence,” a voice slurred behind her.

         “Literally one day, Malfoy,” she sighed. “I just want one day without you finding ways to bother me.”

          Scorpius’ face was slightly flushed and he smiled at her lazily. His hair, that was at some point perfectly gelled back, was tussled and hung around his eyes. He wore a green and red party hat on the back of his head and in the hand not holding a cup was a twirled blue party favor that shot small indigo sparks every so often. Rose could also see a couple glistening red marks on his lower neck where the collar of his shirt loosely hung. Grimacing, she brought her gaze back up to his slightly glazed eyes.

         “Not nice, Weasley,” he said, draping an arm over her shoulders like Oberon had. This time, however, Rose immediately shrugged away. When she turned to where Nigel was previously standing, she found the spot empty and Nigel nowhere in sight. _Of course_.

         “What do you want?” she asked, sighing.

         “I’m just offering a friendly hello,” he said, leaning heavily against the wall behind him. Rose’s eyebrow shot up when she noticed the drink he was sipping was a vibrant orange.

         “Well hello, Scorpius, now it seems I’ve got to go.”

          He slid in front of her, head cocked and smile wide. “You called me Scorpius, Weasley,” he said in awe.

         “That’s your name,” she said, suddenly reminded of small hands and snow and cinnamon biscuits.

         “That it is,” he mumbled, still grinning like an idiot.

          Rose felt a rush of cool air above her and saw silver sparkling light give way to green leaves and red berries forming above their heads. In a matter of seconds a decorative mistletoe sat above them in a way Rose could only call mocking. Scorpius’ eyes trailed up to the plant and he huffed a small laugh, taking a swig of his drink. Then his gaze fell to her, somehow hopeful and shark-like at the same time.

         “Absolutely not,” Rose said, stepping back. “If you even think—”

          He took a step closer and placed his cup on a nearby ledge. “Oh, come off it. It’s just a little fun,” he said, looking not at her face but the red curls that fell out of her bun and rested against her temple and cheeks. “Unless,” he mused, “this is your first kiss. Wouldn’t want to sully your purity, Weasley.”

           Rose felt her cheeks flush and her ears burn. She shoved the stray strands back on top of her head and took a small step back again. “Believe me, Malfoy, that would not be my first kiss. But I’d rather lock lips with the Giant Squid than you any day.”

          “I hear she’s not a very good kisser,” he said, stepping forward again. “It’s alright, I get you’re scared. I mean…not everyone is as experienced with this kind of thing. Plus, you don’t want to embarrass yourself—I’ve been told I’m pretty amazing at these things. Wouldn’t want you to feel inadequate. Or, even worse, you could miss my mouth completely and that would just be _mortifying_ , can you imagine? Rose Granger-Weasley, scared of a little kiss and absolutely dreadful once she tries—”

          It was at that moment Rose did the single dumbest thing she’d ever done in her fifteen years. She grabbed Scorpius’ loose green shirt and yanked him inches away from her face before promptly pressing her lips to his. In the end, she wasn’t really sure how long the kiss even lasted, but seeing the look of shock on Scorpius’ face as he was pulled into her was victory enough. When she pulled away, dropping his collar and moving her head away from his, she gazed at Scorpius triumphantly, crossing her arms and stepping back. For a second, Scorpius stared at her in confusion and awe, a small smile on his reddish lips and Rose wasn’t sure if the pink in his cheeks was from the alcohol.

           As soon as she noticed his expression it was gone. It was immediately replaced with a condescending smirk as Scorpius cocked his head and raised his eyebrows. “Sure that wasn’t your first kiss, Weasley?” he asked, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

           Rose was surprised to find that the blue slush she poured on top of his head matched his eyes quite well.

***        *        ***

           There were two things James Potter loved: spilling every bit of juicy information he had and fantastic dramatics. So, when Christmas rolled around for the Weasley’s and Potter’s and every member of the family, including Andromeda and Teddy, were gathered around the extra-long dining room table at Grimmuald Place, James felt it was at this moment he decide to inform the family on what happened at the Inter-House Christmas party.

            “Rose kissed Scorpius,” he declared loudly when there was a lull in the conversation.

            A few things happened at this point. Uncle Harry choked on a piece of turkey and began coughing while Uncle Charlie clapped his back a good few times. Aunt Ginny reached around Hugo and Lucy and slapped James on the side of the head. Hugo stared at her with wide eyes and an expression of shock. Her mother bit her lip and slowly put her fork down, keeping her eyes on her plate and her father’s face turned an alarming shade of red. Teddy whoop-ed from his end of the table while Victoire elbowed him in the ribs and Andromeda pointed her knife at him, displeased with the outburst. Dominique was smirking and slowly clapping her hands at the other end of the table, earning a disapproving look from Uncle Bill and an exasperated one from Gran. Albus only nodded knowingly while Lily shouted, “What? You did? Go, Rose!” and pumped her fist in the air, which was promptly lowered by Molly, who was cackling madly. Uncle Percy was attempting to hush Molly, which only made her laugh louder. Rose saw Freddie pass a few bills across the table to Louis. She was also pretty sure Uncle George was also sliding a few bills to Louis. Aunt Fleur looked absolutely overjoyed, as any expression of romance seemed to please her. Meanwhile, Grandpa had a look of thoughtfulness on his face and was nodding as though presented with a complicated arithmantic equation.

           Roxanne was taking pictures for the scrapbook.

***         *        ***

**June**

            Nearly all of the Weasley kids at some point worked at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. There was always a couple coming in and out, grabbing aprons and manning cash registers during busy seasons, or restocking shelves in the front of the shop. Even Victoire and Teddy came in once in a while to lend a hand during the weekend. Since Rose’s dad was co-manager of the store, it stood to reason her, Hugo, Freddie, and Roxanne would spend most of the time helping out during the summer and holiday breaks. On a particularly warm June afternoon, Rose sat at the cash register, reading one of her novels with her head propped in her hand and watching the couple of customers they’ve had that day mill about the store. Hugo was helping her dad reorganize gadgets and toys in the back of the shop and Uncle George was in and out all day, so it was just Rose inside the store, watching people come in and out as afternoon sunlight spilled through the windows.

            The bell at the front door rang and Rose barely glanced up as she saw a figure slide in and turn down the sweets aisle. After fifteen minutes or so a small box of Wakefield’s Off the Record Glow-in-the-Dark Gum landed on the counter. Rose looked up and saw pale blue eyes and messy long blond hair standing in the light streaming through the windows and looking down at her expectantly.

            “Afternoon, Weasley,” Scorpius said mildly. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

            She rolled her eyes and closed her book. “This is my family’s store, Malfoy. Stands to reason I’d be here.” She looked down at the box. “Is this all you’re getting?” He nodded. He was smiling, the same knowing smile he reserved for when she was yelling at him. “One Galleon and two Sickles.”

            He reached into his pocket and fished out the coins and held them in his hand. She opened hers and he gently placed them on her palm and she couldn’t help but notice his hands were rather soft and warm. The hands of someone who never had to work a day in their life, she supposed.

            “Summer going well?” he asked.

            “Fine. Yours?”

            “Alright, I guess. A bit boring. I’m hoping to see Al soon.”

            Rose tried not to pull a face. “I’m sure he’ll want to see you too.”

            Malfoy shrugged and picked up the box. “I thought I’d see him in here today.”

            “No he’s—”

            It was, _of course_ , at that moment that her dad and Uncle George walked down the stairs, talking about a new shipment. Above them Hugo was leaning against the railing while he was restocking shelves, preparing for the show that was bound to happen. Her dad stopped short when he looked up from his clipboard, eyes immediately narrowing and mouth tightening. Uncle George tried not to smile and instead hid his mouth behind the back of his hand. Silence filled the air for a moment before Scorpius stepped forward, hand outstretched. Rose almost threw her head into her hands. He was truly an idiot.

            “You must be Mr. Weasley. I’m Scorpius Malfoy.” Her dad stared at his hand, not moving. Scorpius coughed nervously. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, retracting the hand. Uncle George was now visibly shaking and a few snickers escaped. Rose noticed Hugo grinning.

            More silence. Rose noticed her dad’s neck starting to turn that unsafe shade of red again and let her head fall back in exasperation. Thankfully, Uncle George stepped forward and smiled at Scorpius, tossing his clipboard on the counter.         

            “I’m Rose’s Uncle George,” he said, still stifling laughter as he spoke. “Looks like you’ve got our always-popular Wakefield’s Gum. Good choice.” It was now painfully visible he was doing his best not to burst out into laughter and her dad was trying not to lunge at Malfoy from across the room.

            And it was at that time— _of course!_ —that the front door opened and a tall, thin, pale woman with wavy brown hair pulled into an elegant bun practically floated into the store.

            “Scorpius?” she called, walking up to the counter. Rose had to bite her lip to keep from groaning. Everything was always so lovely before Scorpius Malfoy found a way to invade her life. The woman looked from her son, to Rose, to her dad, to Uncle George, and smiled kindly. Turning to Scorpius she said, “Your father and I have been waiting for you for close to twenty minutes. We had no idea where you were. I see you’re catching up with friends.” Her smile was nearly as dazzling as Scorpius’. She gently pushed his hair out of his face and he pulled away, muttering and looking slightly embarrassed. Rose smirked.

            “Your son has excellent taste in gum,” Uncle George said, crossing his arms and leaning against he counter.

            “It’s my favorite!” Hugo called unhelpfully from the upper level. Rose took this moment to groan and shake her head.

            “Oh he’s always loved his gum,” she said, laughing a little. Mrs. Malfoy then turned to her and looked, for some odd reason, absolutely over-joyed. “You must be Rose,” she said sweetly. Rose looked at her in confusion and nodded. She smiled brightly again, placing her hands on Scorpius’ shoulders. “Scorpius has told me so much about you.” Rose only looked more confused.

            “He has?”

            It was at this moment her dad swiftly walked forward and stood behind the counter, almost guarding Rose. Uncle George rolled his eyes.

            Mrs. Malfoy wasn’t fazed, though. “Oh, yes. He’s always talking about you and Albus.” Rose noticed pink creeping into Scorpius’ cheeks and smirked. Mrs. Malfoy turned to her dad and smiled. “Ron, it’s been so long since I last saw you!”

            “Nice to see you, Astoria,” he said stiffly.

            “How’s Hermione doing? I’ve been so busy that I haven’t gotten a chance to catch up with her since the Ministry’s last conference.”

            “She’s fine, thanks,” he said. “Looks like you’ve got everything you need.” 

            “Ron,” Uncle George said, stepping forward.

            Mrs. Malfoy seemed to get it and offered Uncle George an apologetic look. However, she remained as cheerful as before. “It seems that way. We should get going,” she said to Scorpius, “your father is waiting. Rose, it was absolutely lovely to finally meet you. We’ll have to have Albus over this summer. And please, if you’d like, definitely come over as well. We’d love to have you.”

            “Thanks, but she’s going to be working most of the summer,” her dad interjected, still glaring at Scorpius.

            Rose stepped away from him and shot him a look. “Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy,” she said, trying to smile. Mrs. Malfoy smiled back at her—a little sadder than before—and said goodbye, before leaving. Scorpius nodded to Rose, his face now a little more than pink, and followed his mother.

            She watched as he stepped out into the cobblestone street and headed away, his mother’s arm woven through his. Her dad still looked fairly livid and she opened her book up again, trying to not look interested. Uncle George hummed for a moment and then laughed, picking up the small pink box from the counter.

            “Funny,” he said, though his tone of voice wasn’t all that surprised, “he left his gum.”

            Rose frowned and found herself looking through the window, but was only met with random strangers passing by.

* * *

**Year 6**

**September**

            She tossed the pink box in his lap. Scorpius’ attention was focused outside of the train car and he jolted a little when the box landed on his knees.

            “What’s this then?” he asked, picking up the box.

            “Wakefield’s Off the Record Glow-in-the-Dark Gum,” Rose said. “You forgot the one you bought at the shop this summer.”

            He frowned and looked at her a little suspiciously. But as soon as that look came it went, morphing into a much more bored expression. “That’s right…I forgot I even saw you this summer.” He shrugged and pocketed the box. “Thanks for the box. But I can definitely afford to buy another.”

            She clenched her fists and refused to look agitated. “Right,” she said as casually as possible. “I’ll keep that in mind from now on.” Students were crowding around her and she saw several friends of Scorpius head toward the car. “Train’s getting ready to head off, I’ve got Prefect duties to attend to,” she said and immediately turned around and made her way to the Gryffindor section before he could say anything else.

***       *        ***

**November**

            “What the hell, Weasley?”

            If there was something Rose wasn’t expecting on her way to breakfast that morning, it was an angry Scorpius Malfoy accosting her from the other end of the corridor. When he reached her, he was glaring at her with a look that said Rose should know the exact reason he was furious.         

            “Good morning to you, too,” she said.

            His eyes narrowed and Rose realized this one of the few times in her life she’d seen Scorpius angry. “What do you think you’re playing at, giving eight Slytherin second-years detention?”

            She frowned. “I’m not sure why you’re angry, Malfoy,” she said calmly. “I’m a Prefect, so are you. You know we can give detentions if necessary.”  

            “Eight Slytherins in one day?” he demanded. “I know your family hates us Slytherin low-lives but at least try to hide your prejudice—”

            “ _Excuse me_?” she interrupted. “Malfoy, I gave those boys detention because they were making fun of Kathryn Bellard because her brother is a Squib. And this isn’t the first time it’s happened. Ask Thomas Wayland and Primrose Smee—the poor girl’s been tormented since the beginning of the year.” Scorpius, then, at least had the decency to look a little less furious and a little more thoughtful. “I personally heard them taunting her and decided to give them detentions. I don’t care what House you’re from—that behavior is unacceptable, don’t you agree?”

            He looked a little shocked and then nodded. “Yes,” he said, his voice small.

            “And another thing.” She took a step forward, looking him right in the eyes. “Just because you may think my family harbors some ill-will toward Slytherins or your family _or whatever_ does not give you a pass to yell at me for something I didn’t even do wrong.”  

            He stared down at her and Rose saw something in face that was not so much angry or indignant, but more…hurt. “Sorry,” he finally said, “guess I was wrong. I won’t be bothering you again.” With that, he pushed past her and stalked down the corridor.

Rose watched him, unsure what to think.

***         *        ***

**January**

            Lysander Scamander was an odd child. And that was putting it mildly.

            “It’s called Guinosnaug and it’s a delicacy in certain parts of the far North,” he said, writing runes in the corner of his History of Magic textbook.

            “And it’s got chicken toes ground up in it?” Lily asked, eyebrow raised.

            “Among other things,” Lorcan said, at least looking slightly disgusted by the prospect of the drink.

            “It’s supposed to aid in creating positive spiritual resonance within the drinker,” Lysander said casually, pushing his long white-ish locks out of his face.

            “But where exactly is the far North?” Lucy wasn’t quite buying it.

            “Further than Greenland,” he responded.

            “That’s the Antarctic,” Rose said, eyes narrowed in confusion.

            “Exactly,” Lysander responded, looking at her as though she’d discovered some big secret.

            Lily leaned over to Rose and muttered, “Remind me never to offer to tutor these three again.” Rose nodded in agreement. After a few moments, Lily nudged her arm and nodded to a long table across the library. Al and Scorpius were sitting together, talking quietly. “Your ears burning?” she asked slyly.

            “What?” Rose frowned, barely looking at the two and going back to her Charms essay.

            “Those two have been whispering like old maids and looking right at your for the past half-hour,” she muttered, doodling something overtop her notes. “You’d think they at least try and be subtle.”

            “Honestly, Lily, you don’t know they’re looking at me. They’re just talking.”

            Lucy looked up from the large reference book she was sharing with Lorcan and smiled. “Uh-uh, Rosie,” she whispered. “They’ve been talking about you since we sat down.” Lily was nodding, lips pursed smugly.

            “Alright, how do you know they’re not talking about you?” Rose asked, now looking up at the two.

            “Please,” Lily said, “as dynamic and interesting a person as I am, Rose, I can tell when I’m being talked about.”

            “Maybe he’s talking about how pretty you are today,” Lysander said, as though he were revealing something incredibly wise. “Scorpius likes it when you wear your hair up in a bun. Or when you have it pinned back.”

            “What on Earth are you talking about?” Rose said, her ears going a little pink. She glanced up at Scorpius, who was looking right at her. She met his gaze, he sneered, and she rolled her eyes, before looking back at her book.

            “Maybe he’s plotting to murder you,” Lily said as sarcastically as possible.

            “Probably,” Rose snapped, closing her books and sliding them into her bag. “See you, Lily. We’ll see you three next week before your test, okay?” Before they could answer, Rose was already stalking through the bookshelves toward the entrance to the library.

            They all looked at each other in surprise.

            Then: “Does she really not know?”

***        *        ***

**February**

         “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

          Mita Dahwan was someone who found every holiday wildly exciting; Valentine’s Day, however, was the pinnacle of wonderment. Earlier that week, Mita had decorated her entire dorm area in red, white, and pink streamers and enchanted paper hearts that revealed charming sayings about love and affection whenever you walked by them. The week of Valentine’s found her, Clarisse McGinnis, and Liza Renaldo heading up a gaggle of enthusiastic Gryffindor girls in an unofficial common room decoration committee. Every day Rose came down from her dorm with Judith, she found some new enchanted flying paper dove or random chocolates or even romantic messages in gold and red sketched on the wall every hour on the hour.

            “This is a bit…much,” Judith said as a pink paper dove swooped past her head.

            “I’m terrified to find out what Valentine’s Day tomorrow brings if this is just the lead-up,” Rose said, eyes wide.

            “I may just sleep in the library.”

            “Most likely.”

            In the Great Hall, Rose found James scowling and flailing at Albus, who was standing on the other side of the table with a long piece of parchment in his hand. Hugo was sitting next to him, trying to cover his laughter with his hand as he was pretending to read a book.     

            “Sod off, Albus!” James growled, wand now out and pointed at his brother. “Give it back now or I’ll hex you right into the Hospital Wing.”

            “‘The lost days since our parting’? ‘The cold mornings without you near me’? This is _gold_!” Albus cried, wiping a tear from his eyes.

            “What’s he doing?” Rose asked, sitting next to her brother. She pretended not to notice a pink heart buttoned to his blue and gold robes.

            “Albus is reading James’ Valentine’s letter to Darcy,” he whispered.

            Rose’s eyes widened. “ _No_. James you _didn’t_.”

            “Shut up, Rose!” he snapped, leaning over the table. “Albus, last time!”

Albus only giggled harder as his eyes skimmed the novel-length letter. “Darcy, my darling,” he read, “Not a day goes by that I do not think of you. I dream about your chocolate eyes, your soft auburn locks, your soft hands holding mine, your adorable freckles, especially the ones on your—”

“ _Accio_ ,” James snapped. The letter flew back into his hands and he shoved it into his bag, his face scarlet and his square glasses slightly askew. “Fuck you, Al.” It was at that moment that Hugo burst into hysterics. Rose was snickering behind her hand. 

            “That was amazing, Jamie,” Albus crowed. “Absolute poetry!”

            “ _Shut up, Albus_ ,” James hissed. “You lot think you’re so funny. I’ll have you know that Darcy’s been working very hard to get his certification as an Apprentice Healer and I wanted to send him something nice because I’m a wonderful boyfriend. And you’re all immature children who don’t understand matters of the heart.” Hugo pounded his hand on the table. Other Gryffindors and a few nearby Hufflepuffs were starting to stare. James paused, nervously looking around. “And if _any_ of you tell Lily about this I will murder you myself.” With that, he shoved a piece of toast, jam and all, in his mouth and marched off. His cheeks were practically glowing red as he stormed out of the Great Hall.

            Albus was nearly choking with laughter, bracing himself against the table and Hugo was trying to calm himself down. Rose was smiling, but trying to look uninterested as she placed some sausages on her plate.

            “Hungry, Weasley?” a voice behind her made her jump. Scorpius was behind her, arms crossed over his wrinkled and untucked shirt. A purple and green heart was buttoned to his tie. “Hm. You three look awfully cheerful this morning.”

            “Scorp, sweet Merlin, I’ll have to tell you about this,” Albus said through giggles, his face now pink. Scorpius raised an eyebrow at Hugo, who only shrugged, still smiling widely.

            “You look like a mess,” Rose grumbled, going back to her breakfast. Scorpius sat down next to her, a sly grin on his face.

            “Well, I was a little preoccupied this morning,” he said conspiratorially. “It _is_ almost Valentine’s Day after all.” His eyes trailed to Patricia Spinnet, who was sitting at the Hufflepuff table with members of the Quidditch team. Rose noticed her shirt just as rumpled as Scorpius’ and her tie was loose around her neck. She was trying to push back her wildly curly short hair with a headband. She caught Scorpius’ eye and smirked. Rose saw him wink at Patricia and nearly vomited up her sausage right there.

            “Right, well if you’re done affirming your own lewdness, Malfoy, I’m going—”

            “Pardon me, _lewdness_?” he interrupted, eyes narrowed. He leaned in closer, placing his head on his hand and giving Rose a look of innocent curiosity. “Please, Weasley, _do enlighten me_ about my lewd exploits, since you know so much.”

            Albus’ occasional chuckles were gone now and Rose could feel him watching her and Scorpius. Hugo coughed nervously behind her. She inched closer to him and stared him dead in the eyes. “You kiss a lot of girls, Malfoy,” she said simply. “Patricia being one of them. Don’t know what she sees in you, though.”

            There was a pause. Something in Scorpius’ eyes shifted and she saw his grin only grow more unfriendly. "Well, from past experience, it’s clear you don’t kiss a lot of boys, Weasley.” Rose opened her mouth to snap back a retort, but he kept going. “And it’s clear what they don’t see in you.”

            Rose felt her face heat up and her hands shook. Scorpius shrugged casually and sniffed, leaning back. Behind her, Hugo stood up. “Malfoy, lay off. Right now. You’re not going to talk to my sister like that.” Scorpius looked up at him, his expression immediately changing. “Sod off,” Hugo snapped.

            “You should go, Scorp,” Albus said quietly. “I’ll meet you at Transfiguration,”

            Before he could move, though, Rose already gathered her things and left the table, quickly leaving the Great Hall. Scorpius stood up and made his way to the Slytherin table, tucking in his shirt and removing the pin from his tie, watching Rose exit the giant doors of the Great Hall.

***        *        ***

            “Did you hear about Wilson Nickley and Gracie Stone?” Clarisse whispered to Mita and Rose, who were sitting by a corridor window, icy rain spotting the large glass behind them.

Outside, the grey and cool late winter weather indicated no sign of sun or warmth for a few more weeks. In the yards, the bare trees shivered as the icy wind howled. Inside, however, students decorated the halls in vibrant pinks, reds, and purples getting ready for the various Valentine’s Day parities (sanctioned and not so much) happening that night. 

            Rose rolled her eyes and tried to focus on writing a letter to her parents. Mita hummed and nodded. “I know! They were so cute, I don’t know what happened.”

            “At least Selene Vissus and Heather Hurley are still together. Five months! So cute!” Clarisse practically squealed.

            “I feel bad for Patricia, though. She asked out Nina Garris to the Valentine’s Party tonight and she turned her down. Patricia was really hoping she could go with her,” Mita said while she cut out various heart-shaped crafts.

            Rose raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t Patricia and Scorpius Malfoy together? Like, yesterday morning?” she asked.

            Mita and Clarisse giggled and shook their heads. “Those two hook up all the time; it’s nothing new—Patricia probably needed a pick-me-up after being turned down. They’ve been going on like that since fourth year,” Mita said. “Wow, Rose, you’re really behind in your inter-house relationship gossip.” She winked, nudging Rose playfully.

            “Yeah, I heard he’s been really upset lately and Patricia was so heartbroken about Nina that they hooked up _three times_ yesterday. If they weren’t so bad at commitment those two would be perfect for each other,” Clarisse whispered.

            “Malfoy’s been upset lately? What’s he got to be upset about?” Rose asked, frowning. Clarisse shrugged.

            “Well, Patricia told Primrose, who told Quincy, who told Val, who told Liza and me that Scorpius was under a lot of pressure from his grandparents and having some trouble at home. Plus, Patricia thinks he’s really into someone but either hasn’t made a move or was rejected.”

            “Personally, I have no idea who would turn down Scorpius,” Clarisse said, eyes wide. “He’s so sweet and funny! And so cute!”

            “Everything is cute to you, Clair,” Rose said dryly. Mita laughed and Clarisse stuck out her tongue.

            “I’m just saying,” she said, “you know it’s bad if _Scorpius Malfoy_ is all in tears about it.”

            Rose rolled her eyes. Tears. Sure.

***       *       ***

            It was around nine o’clock that Rose decided she officially despised Valentine’s Day. The Gryffindor common room was overwhelmed with the “school sanctioned and all-year friendly” Valentine’s party. Prefects and other members of the planning committee milled about as various students played games and hung out at the large snack tables. There were several younger students trying to act cool despite the fact that they knew the older students were at their own parities elsewhere. Rose was leaning against the wall and watching the students mingle, debating leaving to the Astronomy Tower and the Ravenclaw-sponsored Valentine’s party currently underway.

            “Hey Rose,” Nigel Wheatley was behind her, buttoning his Prefect robes over a red collared shirt. He had a smudge of chocolate on his lower lip. “Still here?”

            “Well, Gryffindor Prefects are supposed to be here,” she sighed, leaning against one of the overly decorated walls and looking into a plastic cup of pink punch.

            Nigel nudged her shoulder. “We’re all taking rounds for each other. So we’re not all stuck here. Honestly, there’s no point in all six of us being here at a time. I came back to cover for Diana just now.” He smiled, pushing his longish brown hair behind his ears. “Party’s dying down anyway; if you want to head up to the party, I think it’s starting to pick up.”

            She smiled up at Nigel and shrugged. “I’m not much into parties.”

            “Well, if you’re interested, Hufflepuff’s little get-together is smaller and more casual. Just outside of their common room, behind the painting of the two old ladies knitting. Password is ‘cuddles’ apparently.” He pulled a face, taking a sip of the punch. Rose shrugged again, watching the smaller kids try and listen in on the details of any unsanctioned party. Nigel nudged her shoulder, his dark eyes glinting. “Aw, come on, Rose,” he said quietly. “Don’t spend all night here—it’s Valentine’s. Have a little fun. I guarantee you’re already dressed and everything.”

            Rose rolled her eyes. Nigel smiled, nudging her again. “Alright, alright. Are you sure everything will be fine up here?” she asked, peeling off her robes and revealing the purple dress beneath.

            “Three Prefects and one House Boy,” he laughed. “I _think_ we’ll be okay with this rowdy lot.” Around him, underclassmen sulked or were playing games on the carpeted floor.

            Rose hadn’t often been down to the Hufflepuff common room, unless walking with Albus or Kai Beamish, so when her only sense of direction included one general stairwell and her only location marker were two elderly women knitting, she was lost immediately. A portrait of a tall, lanky young woman with a bulbous nose watched her as she looked for the passageway.

            “Darling dress,” the woman said quietly as she sat on an old bench, inspecting her nails every so often.

            “Uh, thanks,” Rose said, still looking around her.

            “You’re looking for something,” the woman said, now looking directly at Rose.

            Rose rolled her eyes and huffed a long sigh. “On point.”

            The woman smiled thinly. “It seems that you’re not the only one…” She nodded toward the entrance to the lower level. Rose turned to see messy pale blonde hair attached to a slightly stumbling figure heading her way.

            “Merlin,” Rose groaned. She spun around and investigated the portraits and tried to not draw any attention.

            “Well, aren’t you going to help him look?” the woman asked, her expression one of pure judgment.

            “Nope,” Rose muttered, still looking at the far wall. “Do you know where the old women knitting are?”

            The woman adjusted her position and picked a flower from the ground below her. “Possibly. They aren’t around here, that’s for sure. You’ve gone too far. If you turn back and make a left you’ll have more luck.” She gestured to where Scorpius was leaning against the corner of a wall, chatting with a painting near to the ground.

            “Are you serious…” Rose put her hands in her face.

            “Now you can offer some help,” the woman sniffed, carefully inspecting the flower and quickly losing interest in anything outside of her frame.

            Rose tossed her head back and trudged her way toward the front of the corridor, trying to move past Malfoy as quickly and quietly as possible. Rose saw him looking down at a painting of a man with a long cloak and giant abacus, who was looking up at him and nodding. 

            “Well, if you ask me, I think parties are dull affair,” the portrait said. “Nothing like a quiet evening with one’s own thoughts.” Scorpius chuckled and shrugged.

            “I dunno about that,” he responded, his words a little thicker than normal. “You can’t go wrong with a good party.”

            Rose tiptoed around them and prepared to bolt down the other side of the corridor when the old man spoke up. “Well, how about we ask this lovely young woman her opinion on the matter!”  

            _Of course_.

            “Oh. Hey, Weasley.” Scorpius spun and looked at her for a moment before casting his gaze to the ceiling.

            “Malfoy,” she bit back.

            The man in the portrait hummed before mumbling, “Well…isn’t this...lovely.” Looking down at a watch that wasn’t on his wrist, he said, “It seems I have much to do, if you’ll excuse me.” He quickly left is frame and made his way up the wall, whispering to his friends as he went.

            The two of them stood in awkward silence for a moment before Scorpius sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry about this morning. That was uncalled for. Really. And I know you can’t stand me and all that—” Rose opened her mouth, but he continued, “Just don’t go saying anything about Trish, okay?”

            She frowned. “Trish?”

            “Patricia,” he said slowly, as though speaking to a child. She clenched her fists. “Patricia Spinnet. I know Mita likes to talk about everyone and everything and if you want to gossip go ahead and talk about me, but don’t go saying anything bad about Trish…our little feud has nothing to do with her.”           

            The silence between the two was long and painful. Finally, Rose looked up at Scorpius, eyes narrowed and fists tightly clenched. “Look, Malfoy, I know you think so highly of yourself, but don’t worry. I could honestly care less about what you do, let alone who you do it with.” 

            He gazed down at her with a look that was a cross between a sneer and snarl—contorting his face into something very un-Scorpius. “Great,” he bit out.

            “Great,” Rose agreed smoothly, reading herself to continue along her way and get to the Hufflepuff party as soon as possible.

            “You are _unbelievable_ ,” Scorpius practically shouted as she moved past him. Rose froze at the shift in his voice, standing with her back to him and her hands clammy. She drew in a deep breath and prepared to keep moving when he continued, “Absolutely, positively, _un-fucking-believable_ , Weasley.” Rose bit her lip and clenched her fists tighter, continuing to walk away. “I mean, I get how you think you’re better than the rest of us—” Rose was breathing heavily through her nose, trying to stay calm, “—but the best part is that you’re so pathetically obsessed with everyone else you can’t even see for yourself how utterly—”

            Scorpius suddenly found himself collapsing onto the ground and saw Rose’s wand pointed directly at him. He spluttered for a moment as he collided with the stone ground below, shouting a strangled, “Weasley, what the hell!” as he collided with the hard floors and found his legs wobbly and useless.

            Rose stalked up to him with wand raised in trembling hands. For a moment she just stood over him, breathing heavily through her nose and tears shining in her eyes. Any other day, she would’ve found this hilarious: Scorpius wriggling on the ground and whining like a child as he tried to reach his wand. Now, though, she only knelt down and looked into his face, which was now devoid of whatever anger possessed it a moment ago.

            “ _How. Dare. You_ ,” she spat. Scorpius froze, eyes lifting to meet hers. “You are always awful—just awful to me and you honestly think that you get to pretend that it’s all my fault? You’re the one who’s unbelievable, Malfoy!” She shook her head, stray curls falling into her face and she was rapidly wiping at her eyes every few seconds. “I just don’t get—” her voice broke and she took a deep breath. Lifting her head up and rolling her eyes, she mumbled, “ _Finite,_ ” and stood up, wand loosely hanging at her side. Scorpius slowly stood up and watched her as she stared hard at the floor.

            “Weasley,” he started.

            “Don’t,” she snapped, sniffling and wiping her eyes again. With a small shudder that sounded like a laugh, she muttered, “You have to give people a chance. Yeah, right.” She made a small, frustrated noise before furiously wiping at her eyes again.

            “Hey, okay.” Suddenly, warm hands were on her shoulders and wide blue eyes were trying to meet her own. “Granger-Weasley,” he said softly. Rose flinched, trying to pull away. Scorpius let her shrug him off and rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m sorry,” he said, his own voice cracking. She stopped and looked at him. His face was more tired than she’d ever seen it; his eyes were glistening with something that weren’t quite tears and his face was growing pink. Rose was sure that this, along with his previous furious performance, was a piece of Scorpius she hadn’t met before.

            “Just…can we stop,” she sighed. “Please.”

            He laughed a hollow and breathy laugh, rubbing his face again. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

            She raised an eyebrow and made a face. “Apparently not.”

            He looked at her, completely dumbfounded for a moment, before laughing again. “Oh Merlin you really don’t…” he stopped, his laughter something not quite hysterical but not quite normal, either. “You think…you think I purposefully egg you on because I…well, I _don’t like you_?” Rose was silent and gave him a patronizing look. Scorpius’ eyes widened. “Oh, Weasley. Do you—” he stopped, frowning. “Do you not like me at all, Weasley?” he asked suddenly, cocking his head. “Do you despise me as much as you put on?” He took a step forward.      

            Rose looked down at the floor. She thought of a little boy watching her climb trees with her cousins in Uncle Harry’s backyard. She thought of heavy, scared silence as snow enveloped them by the lake and times when he saw her crying into Albus’ shirt. She thought about waking up to his face in early spring and seeing that same glistening in his eyes as a few minutes ago. She thought about how he slid Wakefield’s Gum on her counter and tried to look interested in the ceiling. She remembered every time she patched Scorpius Malfoy up after a Quidditch match and how he always wore Gryffindor colors when she played.

            She sighed. “No, Scorpius,” she said. “I don’t despise you. But I’m not so sure you don’t despise me, either, given the way you act sometimes.”

            He didn’t say anything. Rose looked up and saw his face growing more and more pink and his mouth twisting into a very Scorpius-like smirk. He took a few steps forward and placed his soft hands on her shoulders again. She stiffened, but didn’t move.

            “What are you doing?” she asked, eyes narrowed.

            “Oh, Granger Weasley,” he whispered, not taking his gaze away from hers. He gently pushed a few strands of hair out of her face. She went to open her mouth, but, _of course_ , he cut her off before she could say anything. “I’m showing you how much I definitely, _definitely_ do not despise you.”

            Rose looked frantically around, waiting for someone—anyone—to pop out from behind a corner and scream “gotcha!” Instead, Scorpius moved his hands to her face, his thumbs brushing against her temple and his palms cupping her cheeks. Rose froze and stopped looking for the surprise prank that was never planned and would never come and instead looked at Scorpius’ face. He was smiling in a way that made her stomach flip a little and her hands clench tightly. For a moment he only stared down at her before inching his face closer as slowly as possible.

            “This isn’t funny,” she said, trying to hold her breath.

            “Not supposed to be, Rose,” he said, his lips nearly touching her own.

            “You called me Rose,” she whispered.

            He grinned and a small laugh caught in his throat. Her stomach flipped again. “Well that’s your name.”

            Before she could even open her mouth to respond, his lips pressed against hers as softly and as lightly as possible. For a moment she stood there, frozen and horrified that she’d let this happen. Then, somewhere between shifting from horror to astonishment that it even was happening at all, she felt Scorpius pull away. His hands were still holding her face and he remained just a breath away from touching her lips again.

            “Get it now?” he said softly, his thumbs stroking her temples and brushing away loose strands of hair.

            “Not despise, then” she said, her voice shaking. “General dislike, I suppose, would have sufficed.”

            He huffed a little laugh. “Absolutely unbelievable,” he murmured, and before he could kiss her once more, she pushed herself forward and bumped against his nose before practically smacking her lips against his.

            Her stomach did a few more somersaults. 

***        *        ***

**March**

            Rose hadn’t talked to Scorpius in about three weeks. Well, more accurately, Rose had been avoiding Scorpius for about three weeks. Which meant she also avoided Albus more often than not. Lily hadn’t said anything, but did offer a few judgmental glances and un-subtle coughs every time Rose found she had to leave immediately as Albus and Scorpius entered the vicinity of wherever she was. She was confronted a few times:

            “I’m his best friend, Rosie,” Albus said one day. “So…yeah, talk to him or something?”

            “This weird avoidance of conflict thing you’ve got going on,” James whispered one day in passing, “is definitely not going to make it better.”

            “Scorpius likes your hair today,” Lysander mentioned at the library.

            Each time only increased her determination to avoid Scorpius Malfoy as often as possible. Without Scorpius, she didn’t feel her stomach flip or her cheeks flush or her hands clench. She didn’t feel like all eyes were on her. She didn’t feel like she needed to do anything at all. And that comfortableness, the undeniable easiness of it all, was far too wonderful to give up for a boy like Scorpius Malfoy.

            That is, until she found herself down by the Great Lake one evening. Sitting on a giant quilt from Gran Granger, bundled in her Gryffindor scarf and too-big hat from Gran Weasley, Rose concerned herself with a French muggle novel Dominique had sent her. Over the lake, the orangish sun was slowly setting and the water glowed a yellowy green beneath the cloudy sky.

            She didn’t even notice him sit down a few feet away from her, hugging his legs to his chest like a small child and gazing out over the water. It wasn’t long after he’d gotten comfortable that Rose looked up at the water and saw him out of the corner of her eye. She watched him for a moment, with his head perched on top of his knees and arms loosely wrapped around his ankles. He looked like a distorted green and silver ball sitting in the grass. Rose also noticed that he hadn’t said anything to her or seemed to notice her at all. So she went back to her book and tried to ignore the fact that he was just…there. The lake was huge, after all, and she’d been in this spot long before him.

            It was around ten minutes before she started getting agitated and bouncing her leg up and down erratically. Every few seconds she found her eyes glancing to her left and looking at Scorpius, who had hardly moved, and was still intently focused on the water, now a deep yellow from the setting sun. She narrowed her eyes and tried to go back to her book.

            However, a few minutes later something in her snapped. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, closing the book and turning toward him. He didn’t respond or move at all. “Malfoy,” she said, a little louder. “Malfoy! _Malfoy_!” He was still. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Scorpius,” she said, not nearly as loud as she’d been calling at him before.

            He turned and looked at her as if caught by surprise. “Oh, hey, Weasley,” he said.

            “What are you doing here?” she asked again, ears growing pink. She unpinned her hair so as to cover them.

            “It’s a nice night,” he said casually. “Finally not freezing. I figured I’d come outside.” He was looking at her as neutrally as possible.

            She tried not to sneer. “Oh, so you just happened to come out here…in this spot, at this time?”

            He looked around confusedly. “Yeah,” he said, as though it were obvious.

            There was a long pause between them. Finally, Rose crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “You can’t do this,” she said.

            “I’m sorry?” he asked, still as innocent as ever.

            “This,” she said again. “You can’t just come out here and…sit here…”

            “I can’t sit by the lake?”

            “No.”

            “Why?”

            “You know why.”

            “I truly don’t.” 

            Something in her snapped, then. “Because it’s unfair, Scorpius! It’s unfair that you come out here and act like _nothing happened_ and like you don’t care at all and like…everything’s gone back to normal after…after…” Rose stopped, unwilling to reference _that night_ and found herself a little out of breath. “You can’t do that.”

            Scorpius grinned then, his predatory, very frightening grin that showed all of his teeth and stretched his mouth across his cheeks. “Oh, I can’t, can I?” he asked, still grinning.

            “N-no,” Rose said, sitting a little straighter. “You absolutely can not.”

            Scorpius stood and made his way over to her, walking as lazily and slowly as he could before standing just over her quilt. He looked down at her for a second before sitting down in the grass. He stared at her with his bright, bright blue eyes and a small smile.

            “Why not?” he asked.

            “Because it’s not right.”

            “Why?”           

            “Because you can’t just…just say everything you said and…and _kiss someone like that_ and then go about acting as if they don’t exist and—” Scorpius’ grin returned, only this time it was colored with self-satisfaction. “Oh, don’t look at me like that—reverse psychology is not your strong suit, Scorpius. I’m avoiding you because I have to. Because I…because I can’t do this.” The words rushed out of her so quickly she hadn’t realized she said them at all. She looked at him with wide eyes and bit her lip hard, her ears now very warm.

            Scorpius’ entire demeanor changed then. “Because I’m a Slytherin,” he said.

            Rose gaped for a second. “What? No! Lily’s a Slytherin…I have very good friends in Slytherin! That’s ridiculous and you know it.”  

            “Because I’m a pureblood,” he said firmly.

            Rose gave him a look. “You know that’s never been a reason for me to dislike someone, Scorpius.”

            There was a pause before his shoulders slumped. “Because I’m a Malfoy,” he said, now resigned. She didn’t say anything then. He looked up at her, his expression more vulnerable than any he’d put on for her before. “Right,” he said. “I get it.”

            “No,” she said. He looked at the grass, eyes glistening in that weird way again. “It’s not because of who your family is. Because…because it’s not, Scorpius. It never has been. Ever.”

            He looked at her, then, his eyes boring into hers. “Then what is it, Rose?” he demanded, his voice cracking a little. “Because you definitely initiated some of the many kisses we had a few weeks ago—” Rose blushed—“and you’ve been calling me Scorpius for the past five minutes like it’s the easiest thing in the world. But here you are, acting like how I feel about you—how I’ve felt about you for years now, means nothing. And you know what? I wish it was because I was a Malfoy or a pureblood or _whatever_ because at least there’d be a reason for why you seem to just not—”

            Rose grabbed his hands, then, and held them tightly. He stopped speaking, taking deep breaths, his face settled back into that vulnerable expression she hated so much. “I hate when you do that rambling thing,” she said softly. “I used to think you do it because it was charming and endearing and girls would do anything for you. Then I realized it’s because you ramble when you’re nervous. And you’re Scorpius. You’re Malfoy. You’re not supposed to be nervous. That’s _me_. I’m the worrier…I’m Grandma, remember? I’m worried about everything and everyone all the time. And I’m scared of whatever this is. And so I’m worrying about it every day and hoping I don’t have to deal with it.” She looked at him and laughed a little. “Some Gryffindor I am, huh?”

            “Why are you scared?” he asked, his voice very small.

            She sighed. “Because before we…” she bit her lip and blushed a little.          

            “Snogged like hooligans,” he offered, smirking.

            She pulled a face and he laughed. “Yeah. That. Sure. Before that happened, you were yelling at me and saying all these awful things about me and I _hexed you_. And you and Patricia hook up all the time. And I’ve been trying to build up the courage to ask Nigel Wheatley on a date for over a year. For years you’ve tormented me and I’ve said nasty and cold things to you. And now here we are…holding hands at sunset like it’s some grand romance. You’re Malfoy,” she said firmly. “And I’m Weasley. And we don’t…do this. We’re not compatible.”

            Silence. And then: “Nigel Wheatley?” he asked, a little astonished. “ _Really_?” She glared at him, lips pursed. “Right, not entirely relevant.” He held her hands a little tighter and inched closer. “Rose,” he said in a very gentle, very un-Scorpius voice and her stomach flipped. “I love fighting with you. Absolutely love it. It’s the most fun I have during the day. And…I guess I figured it was like flirting. One day we’d be arguing about some stupid thing and you’d get really close to my face and we’d go at it and then…well…we’d…yeah. I never hated you and I never will. And I’m so nervous right now and I can’t help it. Every time I look at you and you’ve got that bumblebee clip in your hair or you’re wearing one of those nice dresses you wear to parties I just…I can’t breathe because you’re just…you’re so…you’re _Rose_. And I love that you’re Rose. I always have.”

           He moved closer to her, his face now very pink. “I don’t think we’re not compatible. I think we’re more compatible than we think. And I think we just need to talk. Not have verbal sparring match or throw out jabs on the pitch or toss out insults over breakfast. Just talk. I love hearing you talk, Rose. Especially about things you care about. I absolutely love it. And we shouldn’t talk and then interrupt it with snogging. We should just sit and talk and be friends and go from there.” He looked into her eyes again. “Because I think we’d find out we have a lot more in common than you think.”

            Beyond the water the sun was getting lower and the sky was growing darker, it’s deep blues bleeding into the pink clouds. Water from the lake lapped against the shore and was the soundtrack to whatever it was that was happening between them. Rose held his hands tightly and tried to keep herself from crying.

            “I’m scared,” she said again, her voice very small. “I’m never scared. I’ve never felt like this about anyone and now it’s _you_ and I don’t know what to do.”

            “I don’t know what I’m doing either,” he said. “I just know that I like you a lot. _A lot_ , Rose Granger-Weasley.” She didn’t know how to respond. He raised an eyebrow and pulled out of her grasp, sitting up straight. “Hello,” he said politely, extending a hand. “I’m Scorpius Malfoy and I couldn’t help but notice you over there.” Rose raised an eyebrow and shook his hand. “I like Quidditch, the Weird Sisters, and Muggle TV. I’m also a Gemini.”

            Rose snorted. “You like Muggle TV?”

            He smiled, inching closer. “I do. All of it. Trashy reality shows, mystery theatre, adventure shows, ghost hunters, cooking channels, those cartoons for toddlers, _soap operas_. I’m obsessed.”

            “And you’re a Gemini,” she said, still laughing.

            “Yes. And you’re an Aquarius.” Rose looked a little surprised and he shrugged. “I also like star-signs. Al once showed me a Muggle horoscope and I thought it was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.” Rose was now laughing harder, her shoulders shaking and her hair falling into her face. Without thinking, Scorpius reached forward and brushed it behind her ears. “I also like when your ears get all red. It’s adorable.”

            Her cheeks quickly grew the same red as her ears and she looked at the ground. After a moment she took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m Rose Granger-Weasley. I like French literature, I love birds—I think they’re beautiful, I hate spinach, and I like some Muggle TV, but not the reality shows.”

            Scorpius was smiling wider now and scooted onto the quilt and bumped his shoulder against hers. They turned and watched the wide red sun set below the lake, which glimmered with hints of oranges and pinks as it gradually faded back to grays and blues. The sounds of birds chirping overhead and water rising to lap onto where the rocky shore met the grass echoed faintly around them.

            “Okay, so I think if you gave some reality shows a chance you’d like them,” Scorpius said.

            Rose shook her head. “Not a chance. I think if you gave more Muggle literature a chance you’d like it.”     

            “I don’t even like wizarding literature, Weasley,” he said. “Why on earth would I like Muggle literature?”   

            “Because it’s better.”

            “I don’t doubt it.”

            Rose watched the sun lower and tossed her head back to watch the sky for a little. “This isn’t so bad,” she said.       

            “Not at all,” Scorpius responded easily, his hand playing with hers.

            “Maybe we should talk more often.”

            “Definitely. And snog more. That was pretty excellent.”       

            “So I’m better than the Giant Squid?” Rose asked, laughing a little.

            Scorpius turned to her and bumped his nose against hers playfully. “Rose Granger-Weasley, I would take you over the Squid every time.”

            “Isn’t that romantic,” she said dryly.

            “You’re just so talented…I don’t think she hold a candle to that level of skill and artfulness.”

            She snorted and bumped his nose and this time his stomach flipped a little. “Shut up, Malfoy.”

            “Gladly,” he said, bringing his lips to hers.

            They sat together in the grass, letting the cool air whip around them as the sky fully darkened, and held each other’s hands. And despite the fact that somewhere in their gut they were scared of whatever was going to come, they contented themselves with talking until the nighttime sky darkened fully and glimmered with stars.

            They figured that’s what friends do.

 


End file.
